A Series of Unfortunate Events
by Marty1
Summary: Love is a battlefield. Some of the not so perfect moments from Ran and Ken's hazardous love life. Reposted and slightly revised. Rated for shounenaiyaoi content.
1. I Wanna Talk About Me

Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss of any of the characters from Weiss, so leave me be with my delusions, ne? 

Comments: I have decided to repost "A Series of Unfortunate Events."  And there was much rejoicing.  Heh, well maybe not, I dunno.  For anyone who hasn't read this before it might seem kinda weird since it really plays off of my other fic which was taken down and which I haven't reposted, although I may.  But basically this is a weird little collection of funny and well, unfortunate things that happen to Ran and Ken during their relationship.  Anyway I –did- write a new chapter, but it won't be posted until I get all the others up.  I'm going to be picking over them and editing them once again before I put each one up, so they will go up in order over the next week or two. I got number one done, so I'm putting it up.  This is the very first piece of fanfiction that I ever wrote and ever posted, so I have a special place for it in my heart.  Many people have already read it, but hey, if you haven't seen it, it's new to you!  Oh and this story was inspired by my favorite country song *dodges rotten fruit*.  HEY!! I like country music and I admit it! Enjoy.   

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I can't believe this, I'm staring at the clock and it's four AM. We were done making love at one. I could handle one. That meant that I'd get seven hours of sleep at least. But now it's four, and that translates into four hours of sleep and a very grumpy Ken. I feel Aya's hand touch my shoulder. I look over at him with blood-shot eyes. He is looking at me intensely like he's expecting me to say something.  
  


"Well?" he asks at length.  
  


"Um... well what?"  
  


"What do you think I should have done?"  
  


Shit. I was supposed to be listening, and now he was asking questions. I feel like I used to on those pop quiz days. I roll over and stare up at him trying to look serious. "Well... um...," I suddenly remember the last thing I actually heard him say. "I think you should have gone ahead and died it blue."  
  


I know immediately I said the wrong thing. Aya's eyes get all narrow and pissy. "What the hell are you talking about?"  
  


"Umm... your hair? We were talking about your hair, right? About how you had an identity crisis in middle school because your hair was red and you wanted to dye it. Well I think you should have."  
  


Aya gives me that look again. I crumble, but don't really care, because if all he does is glare at me I can go to sleep. "Ken, we were talking about that over an hour ago."  
  


"Oh?" I say weakly.  
  


"I wanted to know what you thought I should have done that time in band class when I got a reed stuck between my front teeth."  
  


I squeeze my eyes shut and feel like crying. "What?!"  
  


"See, I was so embarrassed that I couldn't tell the teacher and tried to hide myself in one of the music closets and then blah blah blah...." Aya's deep voice drones on and on. I roll over again and stare at the ceiling.  
  


This is why we never knew anything about Aya. This is why he has always been so quiet, never talked about himself, just nodded and made mono-syllabic sounds. The reason is that Aya is only talkative after sex. And oh god, when he gets going it never stops. The first time Aya and I were together, (sweet memories), I had been surprised as we lay in each other's arms and Aya suddenly started talking... and talking, and talking. He didn't talk about anything in particular, mostly just stream of consciousness rambling that veered all over the board. Everything from elementary school memories to his personal philosophy on quantum physics came pouring out of his mouth, and in no particular order.  
  


The first time I found it painfully endearing. Startling and sweet. I lay on the bed, holding Aya close and hanging on every word the redhead usually never said. I thought that it was just aftermath nervousness. Even the second time it had been sweet. The third time was still endearing, but I was beginning to wonder how long it would take Aya to get used to being with me. It wasn't until a month had gone by that I realized Aya's random rambling wasn't going to stop.  
It wasn't a nervous reaction to our intimacy... it was just Aya. He talked after sex. Some people smoked, some ate cheesecake, some ran blocks, some snuggled, Aya blathered. About everything and nothing.  
  


I hear the words, "... like the time I stuck marbles in my nostrils...."  
  


"RAN!" I cry. Aya stops mid-sentence and looks down at me. He knows I'm seriously buggin' when I use his real name.  
  


He looks at me and then says, "Yeah?"  
  


"Waaah, it's past four o'clock in the morning! It isn't that I don't want to listen to you, but -please- can't we talk about your problem with sticking things up your nose tomorrow?"  
  


Aya narrows his eyes and then crosses his arms across his chest. He looks away. Shit, I offended him. I reach out and touch his hip gently. "Aya-kun... please...," I nearly sob in exhaustion.  
  


He inhales deeply and then starts up again. "You know what, Ken? I listen to you all day long. I listen to you talk about your soccer kids, and your laundry, and how the game between Brazil and whatever went, and how you hate rose thorns, and how you love sweet and sour pork even though it isn't really even Chinese food, and your favorite music groups, and your favorite songs, and your favorite TV shows, and your botched romances with girls in middle school, and your botched romance with Yuriko, and how much you love jerseys, and how apple is your favorite shampoo scent (but you'd settle for ginger lime in a pinch), and what you've been reading lately, and your preference in colas (Pepsi by the way), and how your head hurts, and about your old friends back in J-League, and your get rich quick schemes, and the celebrities you like and hate, and your motorcycle, and your trip to the dentist's office, and how your last physical went, and what you dreamed about the night before last, and how you hate those little toothpaste globs in the sink, and how you want to go to Hawaii, and how much you love the park, and the type of moisturizer you like to use, and how much you weigh, and how much you love flexing in front of the mirror, and how you can never find your socks, and the best type of shoes to buy for cross training, and everything else! But every once in a while I wanna talk about me. Not very often and not with everyone, but every once in a while I like talking with you, alone, about myself. Is that so much to ask?" he says still looking out into the room.  
  


"But it's four o'clock in the morning!" I cry helplessly. Aya doesn't say anything he just pouts silently. I begin to feel bad, I always do. Then I start to think about what he said, and warmth settles in my veins.  
  


I wriggle closer to him and wrap my arms around his body. I rest my head on his chest. "You actually listen to me when I talk at you like that?"  
Aya snorts. "Of course I listen to you!"  
  


"Well, I don't really talk so that you have to listen. I just talk to talk, just to fill up space," I say. "You don't have to pay attention, I don't really expect you to."  
  


Aya turns onto his side and puts his arms around me. "I know. That's why I always make sure that I do."  
  


I blink at him, and even though it's going on four thirty I can't help but smile. I lean closer to him and kiss his lips gently, and nuzzle my nose against his cheek. 

"You're a good actor, koibito."  
  


"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  


"Well," I say, tucking my head under his chin, "look how many people you've got believing you're a cold bastard."  
  


Aya chuckles and pulls me closer. He runs a hand down my back and rests it on my hip. "Just don't tell the others," he whispers into my ear.  
  


"And blow your cover? I wouldn't think of it," I say nipping his neck slightly. I can hear the hiss of breath between his teeth. Too bad it's four thirty. I tuck my head under his chin again, able to hear his heartbeat. He strokes my back idly with one hand.  
  


"Aya-kun?"  
  


"Hm?"  
  


"Will you marry me?" I ask giggling.  
  


He thinks for a moment, "Sure. Now where was I?" he asks quietly. "Oh yeah, so anyway that year I decided it would be a good idea to join student council...."  
  


I can't suppress a slight groan as I bury my head deeper into his chest. But actually it isn't so bad. If I just lay here with my eyes closed and listen to his voice rise and fall it's kinda nice. I know that I don't have to pay attention. That's not why he's talking. So I just lie there, warm in his embrace and realize as I begin to drift away that listening to him talk in more like hearing a lullaby than anything else. Funny how I never thought about it like that before. Just like a lullaby, soft and low.

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	2. Hazardous

Disclaimer: These sexy bitches belong to parties other than myself…. Pity.  
  
Comments: Here's the second 'Unfortunate Event' and if the truth be told this is actually my favorite one, it's just so damn amusing, and I can so see something like this happening.  Yeah, well duh, or else I probably wouldn't have written it, right? Anyway, I had to change the rating on the fic because of this chapter *sigh* even though this is the only one even remotely graphic.  Cheez-its are so awesome.  Yeah.  Anyway as before and always, enjoy!

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His hands, slightly sweat slick but firm, grasp my hips, easing me slowly onto him. I close my eyes against the sensation. It isn't that it's unpleasant. No, I like the way it feels when he first enters me, stretching me beyond my limits, pushing deeper inside of me, joining his body with mine. Even the pain is welcome. I admit it, I revel in the pain he causes me. It lets me know I'm alive. It lets me know I can still feel. Erotic… so fucking erotic. No, I close my eyes against it because it threatens to consume me, to take me over.  
  
He doesn't know how easily he could break me.  
  
It took Ken quite a while to get to the point where he wanted to take me. I remember in vivid detail the first time that fire lit in his body and I saw lust mirrored in his eyes. It feels good to be lusted after. There was no stopping him then. He knew what he wanted, and I was only too willing. Sexually aggressive Ken makes me so hot… and he's anything but gentle. But like I said… I welcome the pain.  
  
Still… he doesn't want to hurt me. That's why he takes me slowly now, easing me down into his lap. This is the first time we've tried this position, well at least with me as uke. We both sit, facing the same direction, his chest pressed against my back. At least that's how it will be in a moment… when he finally just takes me. Right now I lean forward, gripping the sheets tightly, trying to accommodate him. I can hear the way he breathes. The little sounds he makes, the moans, the whimpers, the growls.  
  
"Come on, Ken," I hiss. "We don't have all night."  
  
"Hey, what time I don't use up now, you'll just blather away later, right? So we might as well use all the time we have, eh koi*?"  
  
"Shut up!" I growl, gripping the sheets so tightly my knuckles turn white. "Ahh!" I cry softly as he pulls me down a little farther. I bite my lip and squeeze my eyes shut. "Would you just take me, Ken! Enough of this bullshit, you know how I like it," I snap, sucking air through my teeth.  
  
I hear him chuckle softly. His grip tightens on my hips. The sharp bite of his nails digs into my skin. I know he's smirking. "That's true."  
  
Roughly, he pulls me down the rest of the way, thrusting upwards, impaling me. The sharp, painful sensation makes me lightheaded. Whiteness flashes behind my eyes as he rams home, sending a rush of pure, erotic ecstasy chasing though my body on the heels of the pain.  
  
I cry out, arching my back wildly as he rolls into me again, this time snaking one hand around the flat of my stomach, pulling me down, pressing me against him. He takes my manhood in his hand, encompassing me in warmth. His thumb runs over the tip, pressing savagely at my slit and making precum weep forth. I moan and rasp his name, "Ken…." It's hard to breathe.  
  
"This is how you like it, isn't it, Aya-kun?" he whispers harshly. His tone is mocking, but I don't mind. I like it when he's aggressive; it means I don't have to be.  
  
He squeezes tightly and shoves up into me hitting my prostate again. The combined sensation is too much. It overwhelms my body. I spasm in ecstasy, my whole body shivering as I cry out soundlessly, my back arching, my head whipping back of it own accord.  
  
The back of my head connects with something. Something that makes an unmistakable cracking sound. 

That can't be good. 

But before I can think any more about it, Ken's hand closes around me so tightly that I nearly scream as I lurch forward, the throbbing at the back of my head overwhelmed by the throbbing of my manhood.  
  
That wasn't the caress of a lover… that was the involuntary constricting of muscles that occurs when someone experiences sudden, unexpected pain. In an instant he has released me, and as I pant, slowly coming down off my erotic high I hear Ken groan behind me.  And not the good kind of groan he was making a few moments ago.  
  
I reach up with a shaky hand, touching the back of my head, and slowly turn, peering over my shoulder. Oh shit. Ken is cradling his face in his hands making small, breathy whimpering sounds.  
  
"Itai*… itai…." He moans under his breath.  
  
I stare back at him over my shoulder. I can feel him still inside me, but he's rather less than excited. "Aité*…," I say softly. There is concern in my voice.  
  
Slowly he pulls his hands down his face, uncovering his eyes, which are very large and teary. He stares at me for a few moments and then slowly takes one hand away from his face, looking at it in the gloom. Even I can see that it glistens. 

"Oh shit," he breathes. "Koi… I think you broke my nose!"  
  
"What?" I cry. I pull away from him, letting him slip from my body, no longer interested. I've hurt my aité. Now I have to make it right. Turning around I straddle his legs and pull his hands away from his face so that I can see. His nose is covered in blood, a red mess bleeds down his face.

"Oh no…," I hiss. "Oh God, poor, Ken. I'm so sorry, aité… so sorry. Here lie back." I push back on his shoulders, guiding him down onto my pillows. "Tilt you head back, don't choke."  
  
Ken whimpers and tries to bring his hands to his face again.  
  
"Don't touch it!" I snap, slapping his hands away.  
  
"Koi…," he whines. I glare at him and grab the box of Kleenex off of my nightstand, lobbing a good wad into his face.  
  
"There hold that against yourself," I say.  
  
He tries to press it into place but pulls his hand away again. "It hurts!"  
  
I sigh and switch on the light next to the bed. Taking the Kleenex wad in my hand I gently try to rub some of the gore off of his face. He jerks and pulls away. I think I did break his nose. It doesn't look quite right….  
  
"Ken hold still."  
  
"Why? What are you going to do?" he asks in a panicky tone.  
  
"Just hold still." I grab his face between my hands firmly and press my thumbs against the bridge of his nose. With a flicking motion I pop it back into place. It makes a sickening crunch sound, but it looks much better.  
  
"ITAI!!" Ken screams, tears of pain forming in his eyes. "Argh! That hurt, bakayaro*!"  
  
"Well did you want me to leave it the way it was?" I snap back. "Did you want to have a crooked nose for the rest of your life? 'Cause I know it would certainly make you less appealing to me!"  
  
He stares up at me with big, hurt eyes. Poor, koi. That was rather harsh. "Besides. I bet it feels better now," I add.  
  
He blinks and turns his head away. "Yeah…."  
  
"And the bleeding's almost stopped?" I continue, making my point.  
  
"I guess so…."  
  
"Well then. Aren't you glad I fixed it for you?"  
  
He shrugs, still pouting. "Yeah…."  
  
"Good." I look down at him, and I fill with warmth. I want to touch him. I want to make him feel better, take away the pain. I take his face gently in my hands, making sure not to touch his nose.  
  
"There. I'm sorry, Kenken," I say softly, kissing his face, letting my lips brush against his cheeks and eyelids. "I'm sorry that I hurt you. Forgive me," I whisper into his ear. He runs his hand through my hair and I feel his fingers catch and pull. Great… Ken just smoothed his nosebleed all through my nice clean hair. I grimace, "Gross, Ken…."  
  
He giggles, and pulls his hands away, but the damage is done. "Oops…." The whole situation is ludicrous. Our sex life is becoming hazardous to our health.  
  
"Well… I suppose I can forgive you just this once…." He says, trying to ignore the mess in my hair. "But don't expect the same thing the next time you break my nose while I'm fucking you senseless."  
  
I snort. So eloquent, aité. "Hey, just remember that it was your own damn fault," I growl.  
  
He looks up at me and balks. "My fault?" he cries incredulously. "How the hell was I supposed to know you were going to have a frickin' seizure?"  
  
"You were being mean. You know how sensitive I am. You can't jerk me around like that so hard."  
  
"You asked for it!"  
  
"Yeah, well. You can't always give me everything I ask for. It's indulgent and this is what happens when you do."  
  
Ken rolls his eyes. "Damned if I don't, damned if I do. Fine, but that is the last time you are uke in that position. From now on you just eat the sheets and stay where it's nice and safe."  
  
I glare at him. "'Eat the sheets,' huh? We'll see about that."  
  
He touches his nose tentatively with one of his finger. "It still hurts…."  
  
When in doubt, go for the guilt trip. I sigh. "Come on, let's go to the bathroom. We'll take a quick shower and get ourselves cleaned up. And then I am going to get a real look at your nose and put a brace over it."  
  
He smiles up at me sweetly, but much of the charm is lost due to the rather crusty nosebleed still in residence on the lower half of his face. I try not to burst into laughter. His hand reaches up, touching my chest, teasing my skin. One-track mind.  
  
"Can we have sex in the shower?" he asks bluntly.  
  
Like I said, one-track mind. I sigh and duck my head. "Ken, I just broke your nose. Don't you think we ought to call it quits before one of us looses a limb?"  
  
"No… it'll be nice. You can make love to me… to make up for breaking my nose. So you can't say no, because you owe me. No sexual deviation, I promise," he says softly. "You can treat me like a fucking princess, and be so gentle and so sweet that I'll cry like a pussy like I always do. Because I know that's how you –really- like it."

Hmm, tempting…  I smile at him and bat my eyes. "I guess I can handle that."  
  
He leans his face up towards mine, his eyes beginning to close.

For a moment I am about to close my eyes and return his attentions, but the sticky mess of coagulating blood all over his lower face just totally turns me off.  Many nights my hands have been steeped in blood, and all in all I've grown pretty immune to the stuff.  But when it's your lover's blood… nosebleed blood and he wants to suck face with you with it all over… there's just a line there that shouldn't be crossed.    
  
"You know what, Ken, don't even think about kissing me. As much as I love you… it's not enough. Not with the nosebleed."  
  
His eyes snap open and he pulls back. "Oh yeah. I forgot about that. Sorry."  
  
I smile again and touch his face. "Let's take that shower, aité."

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***koi (koibito) – I really think by now we all know what this means, but just in case, _koi is a short form of the word _koibito_ which means lover.  Koi on its own also simply means "love" or "romantic attachment."_**

***aité – Aya's nickname for Ken, given to him in _The Saga Begins_.  Aité means literally "partner" or "teammate" and doesn't have any sort of sexual or remotely romantic overtones.  But that's Aya for you.  It's sort of Aya's attempt at humor, playing off the common use of the word "partner" in English to describe a significant other of the same sex and also the fact that Ken actually is his partner/teammate… Aya's dry humor… I'm gonna stop trying to explain this now.**

***itai – pretty much the equivalent of "oww" or "ouch"**

***bakayaro – I like the literal meaning of this.  _Baka of course means idiot and _yaro_ is "despicable person".  "Idiotic despicable person!"  Um… yeah.  Anyway it is more commonly equated with calling someone a bastard or a jerk.  _**

Leave a review if the spirit moves ya  
  
  
  
  



	3. One Man Train Wreck

Disclaimer: They aren't mine, so sue me for using them… no wait! DON'T sue me for using them, yeeess, that's what I wanted to say….  
  
Comments: Another unfortunate event in the relationship of Ken and Aya. Poor Ken, he seems to be getting all the crap. Oh well, he's just so abusable though. Er… I mean… you know, as a writer… not by Aya. That would be mean.  Anyway so here's the third one all up and gone over and stuff.  Hope you guys enjoy, as always. __________________________________________________________________  
  
Oh shit. He's going to kill me. That's it, no more, I can see myself lying in a pool of katana-induced blood… dead. I squinch up my eyes and whimper. I can't believe that I was so –stupid-! Stupid, stupid, stupid. Baka! I whack my fist against my forehead and realize, as I hear the tell tale crunch of what I have clutched tightly in my fist, that I've just made things worse.  
  
I hold my hand out and slowly open my hand, revealing the mangled contents. Oh, that is not good. So not good. The light catches on the bent, twisted, and rather crunched remnants of Aya's reading glasses, the cute nerdy ones that turn me on. Crap, this is so not good. He's going to kill me!  
  
But it's not like it was –really- my fault. 

Ok, so maybe I took a nap in his bed without asking, but I only did it because I love the way he smells and the way his sheets feel and being surrounded by the things that are his. I was napping there because I love him, so this is so not my fault! I mean, who the hell keeps their glasses under their pillow?  
  
Alright I could see that it is a rather secure place for them when you know that they are there, and it would be easy to reach them if you wanted to read in bed… but what the hell are night tables for then? 

No, sorry, he cannot be mad at me about this.  
  
He's going to kill me.  
  
I peer cautiously around the corner and see Aya sitting quietly on the couch, flicking through the news channels. Good, he won't notice me if I make a break for the kitchen. I tip toe around the corner and pad softly over the carpet, my slippers making little shuffling sounds. I'm almost to the kitchen when I hear, "Where have you been?"  
  
It's an innocent enough question, sure… unless you happen to be guilty of something. I jump and glance over my shoulder apprehensively. "Me? Oh… oh nothing. I took a nap, that's all," I say nervously.  
  
"Hn."  
  
I wait until I'm sure he doesn't have anything else to say to me, and then I make a break for the kitchen. I yank the junk drawer open with a loud bang and begin to rummage around pell-mell. String… no, not gonna do the trick. Rubber bands! Wait that's just dumb. Thumb tacks, no. Staple gun… as if! Sealing wax? Why the hell do we have sealing wax?! Argh. Wait, there, that glint, that green tubing, the red cap… could it be? Yes, yes!! It is… super glue. Sweet!  
  
In my haste to get the glasses and the glue out of the drawer and onto the counter I cut myself on the edge of Aya's crunched lenses. "Itai!" I cry in pain and surprise, dropping both objects onto the counter. One of the glasses' arms skitters across the smooth surface halting just before going over the edge.  Thank god for small miracles. I bring my hand to my mouth and suck at the cut. Damn it! Right on the fleshy part under my thumb, too. Now my hand is going to be all painful and annoying. Why me?  
  
"Koibito? Are you ok?" I hear his voice call from the other room.  
  
"Yeah," I say breathlessly through my hand. "I… uh, just hit my head on the counter." What the hell? How would I manage that?! Stupid!  
  
There is a pause, he's thinking what I'm thinking. "O-kay…."  
  
"Just ignore me, it's fine." I scramble for the glue and the glasses, but now my hand is bleeding on everything. I have to keep it up to my mouth or else I'm going to get blood all over the mail and Omi's homework. 

"Zakennayo!*" I hiss under my breath. This is ridiculous.  
  
I manage to get the arm of the glasses back and employing my assassin-like agility I manage to get the super glue open with one hand. Piecing the glasses back together is another matter. I have to hold the glass… and that just doesn't look right. Wait a second… is that tabby thing supposed to go there? Jesus Christ! I whimper as my attempts to fix Aya's glasses only fail miserably. I'm about to give up altogether and drop the glasses when I realize I can't.  
  
"What the…?" I say in disbelief. 

I try to pull my fingers apart, but they won't come undone. I shake my hand, attempting to dislodge the mangled fames, but I've glued them to myself! And not only that… I've glued several of my fingers together! Holy shit, why me?! I shake my hand furiously, all the while sucking at the cut on my hand, and whimpering to myself. Why does my day keep getting worse? All I wanted to do was take a nap in my boyfriend's bed, and this is what I get?! Well, fuck me for being sentimental!  
  
As I wave my hand about frantically I manage to whack it on the upper cupboards. "Argh! Itai!!" I cry again.  
  
"Ken? Are you sure that you're ok?"  
  
Oh, shit. 

You know this isn't worth it. All this frustration just isn't worth it. That's it. I'm just gonna fess up. Besides I've glued my fingers together… I want my koi! I shuffle out of the kitchen and hover at that back of the sitting area.  
  
I smile weakly and clear my throat, shuffling sheepishly into the room. He looks up at me, blinks twice, and turns back to the TV. He pats the couch next to him idly with one hand. I clear my throat again.  
  
"Um… koi?" I say meekly.  
  
He holds up a hand. "Shh, one moment. Stock report is on. Come and sit," he says, distracted.  
  
"No, I'd really rather not," I say. I don't want to be within hitting distance when I tell Aya that I've mangled his glasses and then glued them to my hand.  
  
He looks up at me sharply. He can tell something's wrong by the tone of my voice. He shifts towards me, the look on my face concerns him. "What's wrong, aité? Is there something you want to talk about?" He flicks the TV off.  
  
I grumble. He's so good. And he's gonna be so mad.  
  
"Well… there's something I have to tell you, and you aren't going to like it," I say meekly, casting my eyes down. My fist tightens around the dilapidated frames glued in my hand.  
  
He furrows his brows and straightens up. "What?" Oh, that was a quick change. Here we go.  
  
"Ok, so please don't get too mad…."  
  
"Ken…?" he growls reproachfully.  
  
"Just let me explain. Ok, so I wanted to take a nap this afternoon," I begin. He raises an eyebrow. It looks like he can see where this is going already. "And I did, but I couldn't sleep in my room, so I decided to sleep in your room, because I really like being in there and it's calming, because everything smells like you and… you know. Good memories and all."  
  
"Uh huh."  
  
"Well… as I was getting up, I kinda rolled over onto your pillow as I was stretching out and I heard this crunch… and…," I break off holding out the mangled remains of Aya's glasses for him to see.  
  
He stares at my hand, which is in a rather unnatural position, and I watch his indigo eyes slowly grow as he realizes what the crumpled handful of glass and metal is. "Are those…?"  
  
I sigh, "Your glasses?  Yes."  
  
His mouth opens and he snaps his head up to glare at me. "Ken! You broke my glasses?! You slept in my bed and broke my reading glasses?!" He stands up abruptly and points at me accusingly.  
  
"Well… yeah. Now hold on a second, Aya," I say in a rush backing away quickly. "It isn't the end of the world, and I know they are designer and I'll –pay- for new ones, please don't be mad at me!"  
  
"Ken! Don't be mad at you? You mashed them! I can't read without them! I won't be able to read anything until new ones are made for me. I can't believe you did that," he growls advancing on me slowly.  
  
I bite my lip. "Um… that's not the only thing I did…."  
  
He glares at me and raises an eyebrow. "What?" he says flatly.  
  
I hold up my hand and shake it so that he can see the glasses aren't going anywhere. "I tried to fix them, and…."  
  
His eye twitches. It actually twitches. He steps over to me quickly and grabs my wrist, trying to take the busted frames from my hand. They don't budge and the tugging hurts. The glue is kinda starting to sting. "Ken…." He growls reproachfully.  
  
This is so stupid. I straighten up. "Look I apologized, didn't I? I told you, didn't I? I even tried to fix them for you! I could have just left them there and not taken responsibility," I say in my own defense.  
  
He glares at me. "How many people do you think sleep in my bed, Ken? I would have figured it out, and then I would have been –really- mad."  
  
I sigh, "Yeah, I know. But –you- broke my nose. I wasn't too mad at you, and that really hurt." He gives me the patented Aya Fujimaya 'what-does- that-have-to-do-with-anything-glare?'. I look at him plaintively and furrow my brows. I try to look sad and unassuming. I bite my lip again; I know he likes that. I give him my puppy-dog eyes. I can see him slowly crumbling.  
  
"I'm sorry, koi," I whisper apologetically. "And… and I cut my hand." I hold it out for him to see. He takes it and holds it up to his face.  
  
"Oh, Ken! You are a one-man train wreck, you know that? How can one person be such a spaz?!" he snaps, poking at my cut.  
  
"Itai, that hurts," I whine.  
  
"I want to make sure there aren't any glass slivers in it."  
  
I smile. He's so good to me. Even when he's pissed at me and I glued his glasses to my hand after mercilessly crunching them as I slept unbidden in his bed, he wants to make sure that I'm ok. I love him so much. I want to kiss him. Right here, right now… but I won't. He'll probably just bite me if I try.  
  
"Don't be mad, koi," I say plaintively.  
  
"I've got to call my eye doctor," he says distantly. He looks up at me, his eyes fixing on mine. I really do feel awful. He leans forward and pecks me sharply on the forehead. "I'm not mad, Ken. You're just too sentimental, and too clumsy for you own good. Or mine for that matter," he says gruffly.  
  
"Yeah I know. I'll pay for your new glasses. Now… what are we going to do about my hand?"  
  
"We'll have to go to the emergency room. They probably deal with this stuff all the time."  
  
I balk. "What?! Oh come on, Aya-kun, you know how much I hate hospitals! Can't we just –call- the hospital and ask them what to do? Can't we just pry them apart or something?"  
  
"What, and rip your skin off? If you really want to do it that way…," he reaches for my fingers. I pull my hand away sharply.  
  
"Ahh! Don't be mean," I cry.  
  
"Stop being a baby. First of all, let's put a Band-Aid on that cut, and then we're going to call the hospital and see what they suggest," he says matter of factly.  
  
"Alright."  
  
He starts to walk away towards the bathroom. I trot after him. I can't grab him with either of my hands, but I want to catch his shirt. I grumble and nudge him with my shoulder instead. "Koi?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"You still love me, right?" I ask just to tease.  
  
He pauses and looks over at me as I jerk to a halt beside him. I grin at him ruefully, but he looks back at me with an intensity I didn't expect. I find myself swallowing and stepping back. Uh oh… Aya in a weird mood swing…. He reaches up and takes my face in both of his hands, staring into my eyes. The strangest things set him off.  
  
"Ken, as stupid and clumsy and spazy as you are… I wouldn't want you any other way," he says huskily. He can always make those butterflies go crazy in my tummy. He leans forward and kisses me possessively, his lips pressing firmly against mine, his hands pulling gently at my face. I get a little lightheaded… but I wonder if that might be from the cut and the fact that I haven't eaten anything for at least eight hours. Still… I like it. Our mouths work against each other, give and take, touch and go.  
  
We both seem to realize that I still have a crushed pair of reading glasses glued to my hand at the same time. We pull apart with a smack and he takes my wrist.  
  
"Come on. Let's get you cleaned up for good. I know of something I can do before bed in lieu of reading, but it requires the use of both your hands."  
  
Hmm, I think I like the sound of that.

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*Zakkenayo – the all purpose Japanese swear word.  It's like "crap" or "shit" or something along those lines. *nods nods*

Leave a review if the spirit moves you  
  
  
  
  



	4. Ken's Game

Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I claim to own any of the concepts or characters portrayed herein.  *nods*

  
Comments: Another unfortunate event in the love life of Ken and Ran. It isn't quite as amusing as I wanted it to be and the style is a little different than my usual… I think. It's kinda hard to tell when it's me reading my own stuff. Funny how the ones written from Ran's POV are usually sex-centric…. My bad. But at least this time the bad thing happens to Ran and not Ken. Have fun. And as always, enjoy.  
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If this is what I get when I listen to him, then I'm never doing it again. 

Most of the time Ken is fairly laid back about our relationship. He doesn't whine, he doesn't bitch, he doesn't hang on me in public, and he doesn't make bizarre sexual requests. I say 'most of the time,' because every once in a while something inside my koibito snaps. Maybe he pops a blood vessel in his brain, I don't know. Suffice to say that today was one of those days. And this is what I get for it.  
  
Let me recap. It stared like this:  
  
_"Raaaaan-kuuuuuun?!"  
  
"Hn?"  
  
"Do you wanna go out with me tonight?"  
  
"Tempting... but no."  
  
"Why not?! You never go out with me! We never get to go out and -do- anything! Noooo, we just sit around and screw! That's all we ever do. Well I'm tired of screwing you, and I wanna go out! Please?! Pretty, please? Come on, koi... I love you...."  
  
"Ken, you know how I feel about public places."  
  
"Why?! Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?! That really hurts. I'm good enough to warm your otherwise empty bed, but I'm not good enough to be seen in a club with? I guess going out in public with me, your -boyfriend- , must be terribly taxing on your nerves! Well, just see if I put out anytime soon!"  
  
"Ken that is not what this is about. I have no problem being with you in public, it's just being in public period that I dislike."  
  
"I know, but koooii, I really, really, really wanna go out and do something fun with you... I promise I'll make it worth your whiiile."  
  
"Ken..."  
_  
Of course at this point in time Ken made it pretty clear he wasn't taking no for an answer and also showed me just what 'worth my while' was going to be worth. I always give in when those soft lips and beautiful eyes of his are involved. Yeah, next time I'll know better.  
  
So we went out. I was forced to be witness to Ken cutting loose, which isn't pretty. He drinks like a fish. A very drunk, prickly, volatile fish. He likes to dance on tables, make nonsensical jokes, fall all over me, take offense at everything, and get in fistfights... which he loses. I had to carry him up the stairs when we got back to the shop.  
  
The next hour was spent holding Ken's hair out of his way as he vomited profusely into the toilet, alternating with me trying to clean up his face, which was rather bruised and not a little bloody from his various lost fist fights, between bouts of heaving. If you can live through the stench of alcohol and bile and still have the nerve find your lover sexy you know it's true love. I, unfortunately, still found him sexy, or else I wouldn't be in the position I am in now.  
  
Ken has the ability to rebound from anything. Alcohol poisoning included. After he completely emptied his stomach and then heaved a little more he proclaimed, "Oh, man. I feel sooo much better! Thanks, koi. Now just let me brush my teeth and gargle and I'll make good on that promise..."  
  
I really shouldn't have listened. I should have said, "We're calling it a night. We'll get it on tomorrow." But no. I said, "Hn." Noncommittal as it sounds, that's actually a pretty loaded word as far as I'm concerned.  
  
I stretch my free arm and grunt, trying to get the crick out of my back. I strain against the handcuffs. Yes, I said handcuffs. They are attached to the back of my bed, holding my arm up in the air and keeping me from going anywhere. It's kinky, and I know that, but what the hell was I going to do? Say no?  
  
I've said it before, I like Ken when he's aggressive. I like it a lot. It gets me so hot I can't stand it. Yeah I know, the whole vomiting thing should have been not only a turn off but a warning, but… when he got all cleaned up… with the bruises and the little cuts… he just looked so goddamned manly standing in the doorway, looking at me with those eyes, twirling the handcuffs around one finger.  
  
"You wanna play a little game?" he'd asked me in a tone that felt like silk.  
  
I'd licked my lips without meaning to and that was the end of that. Next thing I knew I was naked, handcuffed to my bed, and just about to succumb to Ken's sexual prowess. His fingers teased me, running over my body, scratching my skin, pinching and pulling. My free hand gripped the sheets and my other wrist strained against the handcuffs, metal biting into my skin as my body tensed.  
  
And just as the erotic waves his hands and lips and hair caused to course through my body became nearly unbearable, and tiny whimpers escaped my lips, my breathing becoming ragged, what did I feel? His soft lips across the tip of my cock? The exploratory pressure of his capable fingers against my anus? No. Deadweight across my abdomen.  
  
"Ken?" No response.  
  
"Kenken?" Nothing but the soft, rhythmic breathing of one who sleeps deeply. Or has passed out in a drunken stupor as was more Ken's case.  
  
So here I am. Going on three AM with my lover passed out across my torso. The arm that is handcuffed to the bedpost is beginning to fall asleep, and there is no way to get rid of the crick in my back. This is the last time I listen to Ken when he gets in one of his moods.  
  
I kick my legs to regain circulation. I grunt and try to flip halfway onto my side. I fail. 

"Ken Hidaka, you idiot!" I cry, trying once again to wake him up. He doesn't even have the decency to grumble. I try glaring at him. That doesn't work either. I'm going to kill him when he wakes up. I hope he realizes that. I stare at the ceiling.  
  
This sucks. I only pray that neither Youji nor Omi have any reason to try to find one of us tonight. I'd hate to give Youji any more blackmail material and I'd hate to scar Omi for life. I twitch and start to count the swirls on the ceiling for the fifth time. "Countin' flowers on the wall… that don't bother me at all…," I sing under my breath, sighing in exasperation. Perhaps now is the time for a little self reflection….  
  
Ken stirs and wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand. I sit halfway up and poke at him with my free hand. He murmurs something and starts to snore. I yank on his hair. "Ken!"  
  
He starts and shakes his head. "Ooooh, not now, koi… my head feels like it's going to explode…. Just let me sleep…."  
  
Like hell I will! I sit up a little farther feeling the strain on my arm from its unnatural position. I slap at his face. Hard.  
  
He grunts and brings a hand to his cheek. He starts to prop himself up and looks over at me with hurt eyes. "What was that for? What did I do?" he whimpers.  
  
"Ken!" I cry. "Do you not -recall- handcuffing me to the bed and then passing out?! I've been lying here with you cutting off the circulation to my legs and one hand attached to the bed post of almost two hours!"  
  
He looks dazed and tries to focus on me. He fails rather utterly. He shakes his head. "Why did I want to do that?"  
  
"Well, we -were- going to have mad nasty sex until you passed out."  
  
He blinks at me and grins sheepishly. "Oooh, yeah. Now I remember. Jesus, how much did you let me drink, koi?"  
  
I gape at him. "How much did I -let- you drink? There was no let about it, you just drank."  
  
"Well… I figured you wouldn't let me get hosed. That's why I never go drinking alone. I just don't know when to quit," he slurs as he craws up over my legs and looks into my eyes. "I thought that you at least would keep me in line."  
  
"Would you just get me out of these damned handcuffs?!" I growl.  
  
"Ummm… yeah. There's a trick to it… just a sec," he leans up over me and fumbles with the metal release latch. "Zakennayo," he hisses, "my head hurts."  
  
"Wait a second," I growl, "you mean these things aren't locked?!"  
  
"Um… no. Where would I get -real- handcuffs? Ok, don't answer that. Of course they aren't real. Seeing as you have one hand free you could probably have gotten them off by yourself a long time ago…" Ken stops talking and lets his voice trail off. I know he can feel me glaring at him. I exude really pissed off.  
  
"So I've been locked to the bed for almost two hours for nothing?!" I cry as I hear the latch spring open and I yank my wrist free. I shove Ken roughly and he falls back onto the bed between my legs. "Baka!" I yell.  
  
"Itai! Aya-kun, cut it out my head is killing me!" Ken says, covering his head with his arms. "What are you so mad about?!"  
  
"You chained me to the bed for two hours!"  
  
"Well at least I didn't break any bones!" he shoots back.  
  
"That has nothing to do with it. And maybe you'll remember your headache the next time you beg me to go out drinking with you," I growl.  
  
"Hey, I just wanted us to have some fun for once! We never spend time together doing anything. We just hang out and fool around here all the time. Don't you ever get bored just sitting around with me?" he asks taking my wrist and rubbing it where the metal edge of the handcuffs has chaffed it.  
  
He's so sweet. He's so beautiful. He's such an idiot. "No."  
  
He looks up into my eyes and smiles a little. "Really?"  
  
I pull my hand free of his and lean forward, touching his face, running a finger over one of the bruises he was dealt earlier. "Ken, I don't need anything else to make the time I spend with you worth while. All I need is you." Why would he ever think anything different? I hate going out.  
  
"I'm so sorry, koi… I'm sorry that I handcuffed you to the bed and then fell asleep."  
  
"Passed out."  
  
"What?"  
  
"You passed out. There was no falling asleep. And that's not the only thing you should be sorry for."  
  
He rolls his eyes and puts his hand over mine on his cheek. "Ok. I'm sorry that I made you go out drinking with me, that I got really drunk, made an ass of myself, and got in fistfights. And I'm sorry that I got sick and barfed multiple times while you had to hold me up, I'm sorry that I suggested we partake of lewd sex acts and handcuffed you to your bed and then passed out on you. Oh, and that I didn't tell you they weren't real handcuffs. Are you satisfied? Can we go to sleep now, 'cause my head is killing me, koi." He slumps forward against my chest.  
  
"I suppose I can forgive you this one time," I say, putting my arms around him and tipping us both over onto the bed. We wriggle under the covers and I pull him against my chest. "But the next time we use the handcuffs, no drinking allowed."  
  
"Next time?" he asks against me, giggling a little.  
  
"What? You think one half-assed run through is good enough? I don't think so. We still need to break them in." I run my hand up his spine and play with the hair at the base of his neck. I can never stay mad at him. Even when he does stupid things like handcuff me to my own bed… or break my reading glasses.  
  
"If you say so, I won't complain."  
  
"I say so."

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Leave a review if you feel so inclined


	5. No Sleep Till

Disclaimer: They aren't mine.  I'll put them back when I'm done.

Comments: Hehe.  This is my personal favorite _Unfortunate Event _of all time.  Did I say that about number two? Eeeeh. Well if I did disregard it.  This is it, my fave.  It's just so cute and funny and weird and… well clever in some ways. At least I thought it was, but that's me being full of myself isn't it?  Ah well.  I just like this chapter.  Anyway, I hope everyone else likes it too.  Gets all nice and waffy at the end there.  Hehe.  Good stuff that. So enjoy!   

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Stepping out of my pants I unceremoniously kick them halfway to my closet and do a little kick step on my way to my bed.  It's time for sleepy time, it's time for sleepy time.  And man am I ever tired.  We were on a roll this week… three missions in one week.  Unheard of!  All of them all-nighters.  Ugh and then work.  Plants to water, pots to move, boy crazed girls to fend off with large sticks… yeah I wish we could use sticks.  Unfortunately the largest weapon we have in our arsenal is Aya and his frosty 'If you aren't going to buy anything… get out.'  Oooh, scary.  Usually the girls then just squeal and giggle.  

_"Ooh, Aya is so scary!"  *giggle giggle*_  Barf.  

But right now none of that matters, because in a matter of moments I will be tucked beneath my blankets and blissfully lost in dreams with the knowledge that tomorrow is Sunday.  Which means I can sleep as late as I want to!  Hallelujah!  

I take a running jump and dive onto my bed, burying my face in the pillows.  They are so nice and cool and soft.  Yeah I am so going to get some sleep tonight.  Like a log.  A mother fuckin' log.  

My body seems to ooze into the contours of the mattress, all my muscles simultaneously relaxing.  I pull the sheets up to my chin and tuck myself in for a nice long nap.  The temperature is perfect too, not quite too hot, just perfect.  Beautiful.  

I close my eyes and my weariness fades.  I can hear the small sounds of the house around me.  The water running in the bathroom, the faintest trace of Omi's music playing through my wall, the creaking sounds of the foundation settling around me.  They lull me into slumber.  

Time passes.  Silence falls.  Night comes deep and heavy.  I sleep on.  

Then all of a sudden something happens and my bed sags, groaning in protest.  I begin to stir and my face is covered with something thick and heavy.  I can't breath!  Ahhhh!  Web goo!  Killer spiders are going to eat me!  I begin to flail around and try to tear whatever it is off my face.  I yell frantically, and just as I rip the offending something away from my body I manage to flip myself out of my own bed.  I land hard on my back and I find my pants, the ones I kicked to the door falling after me, landing in my lap.  I stare at them accusingly and then look up at my bed.  Two indigo eyes framed by dark red hair stare back at me passively.

"You left them by the door.  I almost tripped over them on the way in.  You should be more careful, I could have broken my neck."

I raise an eyebrow and stare at him disbelievingly.  "Aya…?" I sigh in exasperation.  I pick up my pants and toss them to the floor beside me.  

He smiles at me slowly and then I hear the bed creak again as he lies down, stretching out lazily.  I get to my feet, pulling myself up with the side of the bed.  Ugh, I'm not fully awake enough for this.  And my muscles hurt from the three missions.  

My arms fall limply at my sides as I stare peevishly down at my koibito.  He looks back at me with hooded, come hither eyes.  I groan.  I don't have time for this.  I massage my temples and blink with fatigue.  "Why are you here, koi?" I ask flatly.

He smiles a little bit and reaches up with one hand off the bed.  "I just came to be with you," he says simply.  "Is that ok?"  There's just the slightest hint of challenge in his voice.  

Now I really don't have time for that.  I suppress a grumble and nod.  "Of course.  I'm just really tired, so… no funny business."  

He swallows a grin, I can tell.  "Of course not, aité.  I just wanted to see you."  

I eye him warily.  

Yeah right.    
I nod and then begin to crawl back under my covers.  Hopefully he'll go away soon and then we can both get some sleep.  I do not need to be grumpy Ken for the rest of the weekend.  

See here's the thing.  Aya and I run on almost completely different amorous schedules.  I'm pretty normal as far as I'm concerned.  Snuggle on the couch, cuddle on the bed at a decent hour, sex every few nights.  It's all good.  Keep it routine.  Sure he turns me on… like –all- the time, but I'm easily satisfied with a touch or a kiss or whatever.  Not Aya.  He's so weird sometimes.  With him it's like… stakeout, takeout, make out.  I swear he just waits around for the oddest times to bushwhack me out of nowhere.  I'm trying to take a shower… bam, Aya!  Cooking up some breakfast on the stove… bam, Aya!  Just about to fall asleep… bam, Aya!  Glued his glasses to my hand… bam, Aya!  Fall on my ass for no apparent reason… bam, Aya!  Late night trip to the bathroom… bam, Aya!  All of a sudden he's all over me and there is nothing I can do to stop it.  Usually I don't even want to stop it cause, let's face it, how can I possibly resist a six foot tall, redheaded, totally intense come on like that?  The spontaneity is nice… most of the time.  

But not right now.  Not tonight.  I'm too tired.  I'd probably fall asleep.  And that would just be way too sad to mention.  

As I settle into bed I turn onto my side so that I can face him.  He smiles at me softly and touches my face.  "I love you, Ken."  

And he gets all sappy too.  I smile back as best I can.  I really never tire of hearing him say it, but right about now I'd rather hear it either followed by or beginning with "good night."

He leans closer to me and I close my eyes automatically.  I feel his soft, amazing lips press against mine.  He tastes like sugar and heaven… and seaweed… and soy sauce… guess I know what his midnight snack was.  Mmm, California rolls.  But still I love the way he kisses me.  This is nice.  Just our lips touching sweetly, moving against each other, his fingers brushing along my cheek… grabbing my face, his tongue in my mouth, swapping spit, going for the gold…!  Ahhh!  My eyes snap open as Aya leads off first, stealing second, going for third….  

I push his shoulders away sharply, putting a rather jarring end to that kiss.  "Ran!" I shout.  

He blinks and looks at me rather worriedly.  "What?"  

I grumble as he tries to pull me closer again.  "Grrr.  I told you, I'm tired!  Now would you just quit?  I want to go to sleep."

He looks a little hurt and runs his fingers along my cheek, my jaw, down my neck.  "Sorry, aité.  Sometimes I just can't help myself.  The things you do to me…," he hisses coming closer, beginning to kiss my neck.

"Argh!  Cut it out!" I cry, pushing him back.  "This is what I'm talking about.  Look, Aya, I don't want to sound like a jerk here, but I mean it.  I don't want to fool around with you right now, ok?  I want to go to sleep.  I'm tired.  So stop sucking my face and neck, get your hand out of my boxers and let me get some rest, ok?" 

He furrows his brows and scowls a bit, pulling his hands away from my body.  "Ok.  Fine.  If you want to sleep.  We'll sleep."  

"Thank you, koi.  I'm sorry, but I'm just not in any kind of mood for this right now," I say apologetically.  He nods and brushes the hair from my eyes.  

"It's ok."

I smile.  "Thanks for not being angry.  Good night, Aya-kun." 

"Night, aité."  He leans in for another kiss and I scowl at him.  He chuckles and steals a quick peck anyway.  I don't really mind that much.  I smile and close my eyes, turning over and burrowing down into my blankets.  The bed creaks unhappily as he moves and stands up.  I lie in there waiting for him to pad softly across my room and out into the hallway.  I feel cold air rush into the bed as the blankets are lifted aside.  I feel Aya slip beneath them and settle in beside me.  The bead groans, so do I.  

Great.  Just great.  I didn't think that saying I wanted to sleep was going to induce him to sleep with me.  I hate… hate sharing a bed.  I mean, after sex is one thing.  That's different.  You've just done this terribly, wonderfully, amazingly intimate thing with a person and really the last thing you want is to be away from that person in the afterglow.  Sleeping in Aya's arms after we make love is perfect bliss… except when he does that 'I can't shut-up' thing he's prone to.  He doesn't do it so much anymore, mostly because I think he's exhausted his supply of inane information with me, but there are still those nights….  Fortunately for me I learned how to appreciate it long ago.  But this… sleeping with someone just for the sake of sleeping in the same bed, breathing the same air, sharing the same space, body heat, body odor, sweat, etc… that's another matter.  On my best nights I dislike it, but on a night like this… it's all I can do to keep from screaming.

He whimpers softly and snuggles up against my body, snuffling against the back of my neck, wrapping his arms around me, tracing lazy swirls on my chest, pressing his icy feet against my legs.  

"Argh!  Aya, what are you doing?" I grumble, halfway turning over, fixing him with narrow eyes.  

"Spooning," he says flatly.  

"You never said anything about sleeping with me," I snap, not really meaning to.  

His eyebrows shoot up and then quickly come back down as he also narrows his eyes.  I can tell he's hurt.  I'm just on a big old rejection roll tonight.  His arms loosen around me and he pulls back slightly.  "I didn't know I had to ask permission to want to spend the night with you," he grates.  

I sigh.  He's right, I'm being really selfish here, but… I just want to sleep.  My eyes soften a bit.  "Aya… it's not that I don't want to be close to you.  It's just way too hot in here for this right now.  And I really want to get some sleep tonight… this week has been heinous.  I'm tired, I'm grumpy, all I want is to get some sleep by myself in my own bed.

The last thing I need right now is you sleeping all over me while I'm trying to recover from three consecutive missions!"  

Something changes in his face.  He looks away, pulling his arms in close to his body.  He rolls over onto his back.  He looks almost pained.  "Ken… I'm sorry, I know that I'm being selfish tonight.  I'll open the window, I'll sleep outside the covers, whatever you want… but," he sits up and reaches over, touching my face, caressing my cheek gently, "I really need to be with you right now."  

I gape at him.  Words like that, from his lips, are all it takes for me to forget my aggravation and weariness.  Something is bothering him, something is hurting inside of my love.  My heart is beating so fast.  I sit up as well and put my hand over his.  "Is something wrong, koibito?" 

He looks at me for a moment and then shakes his head, smiling sadly.  "Just like you said, this week has been heinous.  You want to be alone to recuperate, but… all I can think about is being with you.  Everything was push, push, push for the past few days, and now when it's over….  I guess that it's only –after- missions that I realize the danger we've been in.  I think about… losing you, even though the danger is already past."  

I reach out and put my hand on his cheek, bringing our faces together.  He touches me so deeply.  I kiss him gently, breathing in the scent of his skin.  I move into his arms as I break the kiss and nestle my head in the crook of his shoulder, just where it fits perfectly.  "Oh, koi.  Why on earth would you think about those things now?  And why didn't you tell me all this earlier?"

He chuckles half-heartedly against me and pulls me a little tighter.  "You never pushed me away before." 

This is either a really good excuse or a terrible one and I can't quite tell which.  So instead of making a decision I just exhale deeply into his neck and then sit back, staring into his eyes.  

"Fine," I say yawning, "stay, but open the window, and don't spoon with me.  I can't sleep when I get overheated."

He smiles just slightly.  "Fair enough."  He climbs out of bed and crosses to my window, throwing it open.  I sigh and go back to making myself comfortable deep within my pillows.  

When Aya climbs back into bed he kisses me once on the back of the neck and then settles back, one hand resting on my hip.  "I love you, aité.  Thank you."  

Hm… this is nice.  I don't mind this.  His rhythmic breathing calms my nerves as I slowly drift off towards slumber once again.  

Unfortunately for me Aya makes it there first and the next thing I know he's hogging the blankets and coming dangerously close to doing something I could describe only as… snoring.  It's not quite snoring.  It's more like rasping, the air getting stuck halfway through his nasal passages.  I don't even want to look at the clock.  

That's it.  I can't sleep like this!  

But as I roll over intent on shoving my ne'er-do-well boyfriend out into the cold, the streetlight from the open window catches on his face just so.  He looks like an angel, a peaceful, helpless, sleeping angel.  Rarely have I seen Aya's face so free of care and pain.  His eyelids flutter gently as he dreams and his lips work silently on unspoken words.  My heart melts, my entire body feels weak and I almost feel like crying for some odd reason.  And I realize, once again, that I truly do love Aya.  It's not just some passing fancy or a sick experiment I roped myself into.  I'm in love with him, and every rasping little breath he takes only confirms this to my heart.  

A smile tugs at the corners of my mouth and my eyes soften with the adoration I feel for him.  The soft ache in my chest is the sweetest torture I could ever feel.  I settle down beside him on the bed once again, happy that I can make him happy like this.  And as I gently pull a bit of blanket from him and cover myself as best I can I decide that I really do overheat when I sleep anyway.  And when I rest my head next to his, our faces only inches apart I realize something else.

To make him stop snoring all I have to do is pinch his nose closed.  And smiling wickedly… I do.

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Leave a review if it pleases you (I'm a poet and I just don't know it!)


	6. Work in Progress

Disclaimer: No they don't belong to me.  I know that, you know that, they know that.  So just enjoy anyway.

Comments: Here it comes, the next installment of _Unfortunate Events._  It's a cutey.  Yeah, not much to say.  I may or may not have made some changes back in the other chapters to their more original forms due to the lamentations of a friend of mine. *pets Mako-chan*  Actually I'm not sure why I changed it in the first place… I was just never quite right with the line.  But… eeeeh.  So maybe it's back.  Or maybe I was lazy and didn't fix it.  I dunno.  Anyway back to –this- chapter.  Read it, enjoy it, comment upon it.  Whatever.  Have fun.

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I throw a few thousand yen into the front window of the taxicab.  The driver simpers some idle, meaningless thanks and pretends that he is going to count out my change.  I wave at him to keep it, as he knew I would, and shoulder my bag.  The cab is gone before I have the time to change my mind.  I pause and stare at the front of the Koneko.  It looks too damn happy.  The windows sparkle, the flowers seem to fairly shimmer just to spite me, and the door jingles in an annoyingly happy way as another satisfied customer exits the premises.  She smiles at me as she passes.  I don't smile back, I just nod my head.  

Pushing the door open I grumble incoherently to myself and make my way purposefully past all the plants and counters and people.  It's still early in the morning.  Only a little after ten.  I wonder what all these people are doing here so early.  What the hell do so many people need flowers for a ten AM?  

I bump into Youji's shoulder as I make for the back door.  He jumps and looks at me, his green eyes wide and startled.  

"Ah!  Aya-kun?!  Jesus, you scared me.  You're back… today?  But I thought Ken was gonna…"

"Yeah, me too," I snap, cutting him off and slamming the back door behind me.  I take the stairs two at a time.  I grumble to myself as I make my way through the apartment, up the stairs.  I am not happy.  You wouldn't be happy either if you were me.  Before I know it I've reached my destination.  I drop my bag in the hallway and take a deep breath, revving myself up before I roughly shove the door open and step inside, not bothering to close it behind me.  

It smells warm in here.  Warm and slightly musty… cramped like it hasn't been cleaned in weeks.  A perfunctory glance around assures me that it hasn't.  Piles of cast off clothing crowd the already minimal floor space.  Discarded books and CD cases are strewn about in a disorderly fashion that makes me twitch nervously.  Dirty dishes, empty noodle cups, half-eaten packages of seaweed and pocky, all litter what is left of any remaining surfaces.  It all adds to the smell.  I wrinkle my nose in disgust and, picking my way very carefully across the floor, finally make it to the bed.  A large pile of what could be either clean or dirty clothes is heaped on the end.  Somewhere beneath the refuse is Ken.  

I am just about to grab the covers and rip them off in a fit of savage temper when I catch a glimpse of dark brown hair peaking above the lip of the comforter.  A tiny patch of warm brown skin is exposed beneath that, and the tips of four fingers poke sweetly over the edge of one pillow.  I feel the betrayal of my lips as they begin to smile softly.  My heart beats a tiny bit faster, and I reprimand myself for it.  

Damn it, no!  I'm angry!  I have a right to be angry.  No matter how cute he is I am going to get the satisfaction of yelling at him.  

I steel myself and reach for the covers, yanking them back.  "Ken Hidaka you baka! Wake up!" I growl.  

The sudden exposure of his skin to the cold air outside the warmth of his blankets sends a sharp shiver through my koibito.  He jolts, groans, squeaks and then twitches violently, pulling himself into fetal position.  After a moment his eyes open painfully and he turns his head, peering up at me with that lost puppy look.  Oh God… those big droopy brown eyes…

"Uh…?  K-koi?  You're back?  Oh, koibito, I missed you so much, are you really back?" he murmurs softly his voice slowly gaining strength, his eyes focusing.  

I furrow my eyebrows and open my mouth to snap at him scathingly, but nothing comes out.  My breath is taken away.  He is so beautiful, lying there, rumpled and disoriented.  His soft hair sticks up at funny angles, his sweet, tight body shivers against the intrusion of the cold.  I notice that he's wearing a very ugly orange sweater.  The sleeves are too long, the cuffs dangle charmingly from his hands which are lazily reaching for me.  He's sleeping in my sweater.  My heart softens, I want to hold him…  It's been two weeks.  

Again, no.  I am still supposed to be angry here.  Me angry.  Where is that damn nihilism when I need it?  It used to come so easily.  Where is that mask of frozen emotion?  Argh.  I take a step back and cross my arms over my chest, doing my best to glare off into space.  I can't look at him.  If I do I'm just so much meat to be wasted.  

"Yes, I'm back.  No thanks to you," I grumble darkly.  

"Wha…?  What do you mean?" he asks softly, the slightest edge coming into his voice.  I hazard a glance at him.  He's rolled onto his back, one hand resting on his chest, the other still reaching for me.  Before I lose control I close my eyes and look away again. 

"Well, let's see.  My plane got in this morning at seven o'clock.  I waited until nine before I fought my way onto the bullet train, in rush hour traffic, and then caught a cab home," I say as dryly as I can.  

There is a space of dead air about five seconds long and then Ken makes a painful groaning sound.  "Shit!  I was supposed to pick you up!" he cries.  I can hear him tossing around, turning to look at his clock.  "Argh!  It's almost ten thirty!  Oh, koi….. Aya-kun, I am so sorry!  Ah, damn it!  I was supposed to meet you at the gate," he cries, whacking his forehead.  

I hiss in disgust and toss the covers back up over his face.  "Yeah, you were," I say flatly and then turn to leave.  

Now that I think about it, and don't have to look at him, it's pretty easy to be pissed at Ken.  It isn't just the fact that he forgot to pick me up, hell we all forget things like that every once in a while.  But Ken does it all the time.  He just gets so caught up in whatever he's doing at the moment.  Out of sight, out of mind.  I can't trust him to cook, because he burns everything.  Can't trust him to do the laundry because he always forgets to put the wet clothes in the drier, and then they get musty and have to be washed again.  He's just always so clumsy and forgetful.  I keep waiting for Ken to grow up, but he never does.  

Ken gives a strangled cry and sits up.  "Aya….!  Koi, wait.  Look, I'm sorry, ok?  I'm really, really sorry," he calls after me.  His voice catches and I hear him mutter, "I'm such a screw-up."  

There are a few things in this world that cut me to the bone.  One is the thought of my sister in danger and another is my aité having reason to cry.  I turn and look over my shoulder.  I hadn't quite expected this.  I was sure he'd at least try to defend himself, get angry most likely.  That's more Ken's style.  It's so much easier to just argue with him.  

He's sitting up in bed now, his head is bent to his knee, one arm draped in front of his eyes.  I hear him sniff and then whimper softly.  He's going to cry all over my sweater.  Oh God, I can't take this.  I turn around and take a few steps towards him again, my feet padding softly on what little open floor I can find.

"No… Ken, I didn't mean that.  I'm just angry, that's all.  I'll get over it.  It isn't that big a deal.  I'm home anyway, so it's just water under the bridge really," I sigh, picking my way over the refuse.  

He looks up at me, tears are starting to form in his deep eyes.  "No!" he cries, "You don't understand, Aya.  I am a screw-up!  I screw everything up.  Even this.  I couldn't even remember to pick you up at the airport after you'd been gone for two weeks!  Two weeks!" 

I look down at him with hooded eyes.  He grimaces bitterly as he looks up into my face and then the tears finally break over the rim of his eyes and fall down his smooth cheeks.  He hiccups and hides his face in his knee again.  

Sighing, I sit beside him and pull him into the loop of one arm.  I kiss his hair gently, but don't say anything.  Some part of me agrees with him.  

I can barely make out what he's saying as he starts to mumble into his knees.  "I wanted to be there so badly, too.  I wanted to be the first one to see you when you got back and put my arms around you and tell you how happy I was to see you.  I wanted to do this one thing right, I wanted to see your eyes light up when you got off the plane and I was actually there.  I wrote myself notes for god's sake!  And even after all that, even when I –wanted- to be there for you so badly I couldn't get it together enough to even fucking remember to set my alarm.  I am a horrible boyfriend, I always have been!" he cries. 

My eyes snap wide open and I reach for his face, taking his chin in my hand.  I pull his head up and towards me, locking my eyes with his.  He looks so startled and sad.  God I love him.  

"You are not a horrible boyfriend," I say levelly.

He tries to pull his face away and shake his head, "Yes I a-…"  

I cut him of, jerking his face towards me again.  I don't mean to be so rough, but sometimes it's the only way to get through to him.  "No, you are not, Ken.  You are the best thing that ever happened to me.  If I couldn't love you, and if you didn't love me in return I would be to the ninth level of hell by now."

He looks at me adoringly for a moment, the sadness fading slightly from his eyes.  Then uncertainty begins to swim in those dark pools and he looks away.  "But I'm such a fuck up.  I can't do anything right.  I can't even cook or do the laundry for God's sake.  And what about the time I broke your glasses?  Or when I got smashed and chained you up to the bed?  Even then, when I was trying to do something fun for us, I totaled it.  What the hell is wrong with me?!" he cries angrily.  

I lean closer to him and gently kiss his forehead, taking the time to nuzzle his hair.  "There is nothing wrong with you, Kenken," I whisper.  "You're just a little spazzy.  I know you try, and I know that I can't change you.  I don't want to.  Besides you aren't the only one who does stupid things.  Remember when I broke your nose with the back of my head?  Or how about all those nights I've kept you awake, or pounced on you out of nowhere?"  

He sniffs, wiping at his eyes with the sleeves of my sweater.  Then he grins and chuckles once.  "That's true.  Aw but, koi, I really did want to be there at the airport this morning.  I always want to do all these things for you and I always have the best intentions, but they never work out.  I do truly love you so much."

I draw him deeper into the circle of my arms and hold him against me.  "I know, aité, and that has made all the difference in the world."

He makes a soft clicking sound and then puts his arms around my neck, leaning back, pulling me down onto the bed with him, pulling the blankets aside and drawing me into them.  We lie side by side, simply staring at each other.  I touch his face, tracing all his beauty with my fingertips.  His eyes flutter closed as I gently brush over his sensitive lips.  He smiles and stifles a giggle.  We speak no words, and he moves quietly, drawing my hand away.  Without prompting he pulls his body closer to mine and kisses gently at my neck, breathing softly against the sensitive skin below my ear.  I murmur appreciatively.  It's been two weeks.  

"Do you forgive me yet?" he whispers in my ear.  

I wrap my arms around him, pulling his hard, lean body against mine.  "Mmm.  Not quite, but getting there," I say playfully.  He nips my earlobe in response, tightening his arms around my neck.  I feel him rub against me, and hear his low moan as I rock back against him.  

"What do I have to do to get forgiveness?" he asks a little breathlessly.  

I think about it for a moment and then push him back slightly so that I can see his face.  I narrow my eyes.  "Tell me why you're wearing my sweater."  

His face goes blank and then goes into confusion mode.  He glances down at himself and lifts one arm up from my neck so that he can examine it.  "Oh!" he gasps as if he didn't realize he'd been wearing it all along.  "I forgot that I had it on," he trails off and then looks at me sheepishly.  "Er… you don't mind do you?"

I raise an eyebrow.  Let him interpret what that means.  

He looks away and flushes a bit.  "Well… I missed you so much, I guess.  It smells like you, so I started wearing it around the house… and then I started sleeping in it…  It's really comfy actually.  I felt close to you, even though you were far away."

I smile indulgently.  "You are so odd, aité.  Have you washed it?"

He looks scandalized.  "No!  If I did it wouldn't smell like you anymore!  It would smell like laundry."  As if I was the idiot here.

I incline my head forward and sniff the sweater once and then lean back again.  I curl my lip.  "Well now it doesn't smell like me or laundry.  It smells like a dirty sweater you've been wearing for two weeks."

"It does not!  I was very careful with it," he protests.  

"Ken, you've been –sleeping- in it.  Do you have any idea how much you sweat when you sleep?  Because I do, and let me tell you…"

"News flash, Aya, when I sleep with you that sweat isn't from sleep," he says dryly.  

I jab at his ribs.  "Smart-ass."  He giggles and thrashes against me.  I growl softly and nibble at his neck, tickling the skin with my teeth.  

"Ah!  Hah ha… er… Aya-kun, cut it out, ne?!" he cries, wriggling against me.  I love it.  But I know he really does hate to be tickled so I stop.  It takes him a moment to calm down.  His eyes sparkle and dance as he gazes at me.  "Who's the smart-ass now?" 

Instead of responding I pull his face to mine and claim his flushed lips with my own.  I'd almost forgotten how sweet he tasted.  Two weeks is a long time to go without the kiss of a lover.  He moans softly and I press deeper, taking my time, savoring the pliant feel of his mouth beneath mine.  Our tongues dance together and play a tumultuous game of give and take.  He makes me shaky.  I think I have the same effect on him because in a matter of moments we are trembling in each others' arms, anticipation and passion coursing through our bodies.  

"Ken," I hiss, finally breaking the kiss, "it feels like it's been forever.  I want you so badly."

He swallows and blushes, nodding his head.  "I know.  But… ah… shouldn't you take your stuff to your room first?" he says breathlessly.  

I force myself to pull away from him slightly and nod my head.  I should also probably close the door just in case Youji or Omi decide to come up for anything.  "Yeah.  I should.  I'll go to my room first and then I'll be back."

He begins to nod, but then suddenly looks up at me with wide 'oh no' eyes and gasps.  He covers his mouth with his hand.  "Your room…"  

This can't be good.  I narrow my eyes.  "What about my room?"

"Oh, Ran!" he cries despondently.  "Shit shit shit!  I forgot, you can't to in there… not until I clean it."

I raise an eyebrow.  "What happened to my room?"

"I kinda… camped out in there for a couple nights," he answers haltingly.  

I know what this means.  If Ken spent any significant amount of time in my room then it was bound to pretty much look just like his room.  I grumble and glare at him as hard as I can.  "And you didn't clean it yet?!" I cry.

"Well, that was all part of the 'I forgot to get up this morning' problem," he whines.  "Koi, oh God, I really am a screw-up.  See I told you.  Ken Hidaka, grade A royal failure."  He looks down and tries to bury his face in a pillow.  

I sigh and reach out, touching him gently.  He looks up and I smile warmly, it isn't any use getting upset over it now.  I can't change him, he is the way he is.  Maybe over time he'll get better but until then… 

"No, Ken, you are not a failure.  You're just a work in progress," I say softly and then kiss him again.  He smiles against my lips and then rocks his hips forward, rubbing against me.  Suddenly the state of my room is no longer a priority.

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Leave a review if you're in the mood  *wiggles eyebrows* (the mood…)


	7. Not What it Looks Like

Disclaimer: I know it isn't nice to steal... but I'll put them back when I'm done!  
  
Comments: Here it is the last old Unfortunate Event!  *claps*  After this one goes up, the next one will be brand spanking new!  Oooh… spanking… *jots down a note to self*.  Anyway I hope you guys have been enjoying the repost, and thanks for all the great reviews!  I'm so glad that I caught at least a few new readers as well as some peeps who have already read this.  Makes me so happy.  ^_^  Happy happy happy!!  *looks around* This is totally off subject… but there is a guy who works in one of the cafeterias here whose name is 'Marty' and every time I see his nametag I twitch…  -_-;;  And that has nothing to do with anything.  Anyway, enjoy!!  
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I can feel his presence over me, hovering, waiting for me to crack, to give in to his suggestions. I know he thinks he's so clever, so smart, that I can't resist, but he's wrong. Oh is he ever wrong! 

I twist around gingerly on the couch, trying to ease my discomfort. 

But then again why should I protest? It's what I want isn't it? for this to just end... he can end this for me, I know he can. It's the smugness that won't let me give in.  
  
"Had enough yet? I can stop the aching, Kenken," he drawls. "It would only take a few moments."  
  
His voice is sugar coated, and I want to give in, but something holds me back. Why?  
  
"You're all bound up, tighter than a clock spring. I can loosen you up in no time," he chimes, sitting by my feet. I glance up at him through my knees and grimace. I don't need this right now. My discomfort grows, the aching spreads and screams to be cured.  
  
Tossing my head back I groan. "Fine! Do your worst," I hiss.  
  
I hear him chuckle softly and then feel his weight shift, feel the firm, warm presence of his hands on my knees, prying them apart, pushing one leg back against the cushions and lifting the other one slightly. His hand trails slowly down my leg, whispering over the fabric of my jeans. He pauses, I hold my breath.  
  
"It might help if I just took these off," he says slowly.  
  
I whip my head up in indignation. "What?! Here? Now? But what if one of the others were to..." I protest. I hope I'm not blushing.  
  
He chuckles and shakes his head. "You'd think we were doing something perverted, Ken-kun. This is all in innocence, remember?"  
  
I roll my eyes. "Is anything with you ever in innocence?" I snap.  
  
He shakes his head and leans farther against my leg. "What are you implying? You think I have ulterior motives here, Kenken?"  
  
I put my head back down. "I wouldn't put it past you," I grumble. This time he nearly breaks out into full fledged laughter.  
  
"Shush! You want one of them to come in here and find us like this?" I snap in a hushed voice.  
  
"Can I take off your pants or not? It would be a lot easier on both of us..."  
  
"Oh, fine. I'll get it though." Trying not to make my situation any worse I reach down and unfasten my jeans, jerking down the zipper and then lifting my hips to slide them off. I grunt in pain and irritation. I feel his hands slip under my back, supporting me.  
  
"Here, let me help, you stubborn baka," he grumbles.  
  
I glare at him. "Don't get fresh with me," I snap. "I don't have time for this."  
  
"Oh, Ken, I am going to make you feel so good when this is all over," he coos.  
  
"How many times have you said -that- before?"  
  
Again with the chuckling. "Be good, Ken. I don't have to do this you know."  
  
"I don't actually recall asking you to do this either," I snap back.  
  
Our eyes meet for a moment and then he shakes his head, the hair farming his face bouncing around. He sits back, letting my back and hips hit the couch again. He shrugs and makes to stand up. "Fine if that's what you want..."  
  
"Ah! Er... no don't go. I'm sorry, really. I do want this, I swear, it's just... It's awkward, you know?" I say in a rush.  
  
He grins ruefully and sits back down, grabbing my pant cuffs and yanking them down my legs and away in one swift motion. "Only because you're making it so," he says softly. Good lord, this is getting out of hand. "What's gotten into you lately? You never used to be like this."  
  
I shake my head and look away. "I know," I say softly. "But then it was..."  
  
"Yeah yeah."  
  
"And now, it's different, cause there's..."  
  
"I know, but would you just lighten up, ok? I'm only here to make this better for you."  
  
I sigh and nod. "Just get on with it. I'm going to go crazy if you don't just do it!"  
  
"If that's what you really want, Kenken," he says silkily. I don't like that tone. I glare at him as he pushes my legs apart again, pressing one back, bracing his hand on my knee. The other he pushes out and up. I whimper and grab the couch. "Settle. Relax."  
  
"Easy for you to say," I grunt.  
  
Slowly he eases his way between my legs. He hooks my knee over his shoulder and forces it straight, grabbing my ankle and pushing it upwards. He leans forward, sliding his other hand up under my hip, lifting it, cupping my ass. I bite my lip against the sensations he is causing. He leans forward again, applying constant pressure to my leg forcing it back and up, farther and farther. 

This can't be natural. I don't bend that way! 

He presses and I whimper, it goes on, my hands clutch madly at the couch cushions, it's all I can do to keep from crying out.  
After a few moments I can see the concentration knit on his brow. Sweat drops form on his light skin and he closes his eyes, breathing heavily in concentration. Resolutely he pushes forward, lifting and pulling, exerting himself for my benefit. God this is killing me! Then just when I think I can take no more a small exclamation issues from his mouth and he shoves his body forward with primal effort. A momentary flash of excruciating pain and then... ultimate relief. In the heat of the moment, just as I feel my bones crunch and then fall back into place with an audible pop I cry out his name.  
  
"Youji!"   
  
Just then the light snaps on. Both of our heads snap towards the entryway of the living room. I hear Youji make a funny urking sound and something that sounds suspiciously like 'zakennayo!' 

"Heh heh... hey there, Aya- kun..." he squeaks.  
  
And there indeed he is, Aya-kun, standing in the entryway, mussed, and sleep filled. His eyes go from slightly confused to murder in about two seconds flat. I can feel myself giggling thinly; I can imagine how this looks. My pants... on the floor. Youji... up between my legs. My face... mostly hot and bothered. Youji's face... sweaty and red. My legs... more spread than peanut butter on toast. The hand, the ass, the ending cry of passion. Yeah, I know how this looks. But despite the fact that I know how this looks I open my mouth and say weakly, "Koi, this is not how it looks!"  
  
No effect.  
  
"Kudou, you're a dead man!"  
  
"AHHH!!!" Youji cries as he stands up on the couch and vaults over the back, trying to put something between him and my blood lusting lover. I struggle to sit up as Youji holds up his hands. "Fujimiya, I swear I would never touch Ken like that!"  
  
"Argh!" Aya yells and rushes the couch. 

He leaps over the back in one single bound just as Youji screams "SHIT!" and dodges around the other end. Before I know what's happening Youji and Aya are mixed up in a demented game of tag. Only if Youji gets tagged one of them is going to end up unconscious or worse.  
  
"Aya-kun, be reasonable! I swear this is not what it looks like!" Youji yells, dancing behind the coffee table.  
  
"Like hell it's not!" Aya shouts back. He looks down and grabs Youji's glass ashtray, chucking it at poor Yotan's head. Youji manages to duck, his favorite ashtray shattering against the far wall.  
  
"Jesus H. Christ, Aya! Are you trying to kill me?!"  
  
"Basically!"  
  
At this point I manage to pull myself together and stand up off the couch. I have the presence of mind to wonder at how much better I feel now before staring to screech at the top of my lungs. "Koibito, what the hell are you doing? You can't try to kill Youji. He wasn't doing anything, he was helping me with something!"  
  
"I'm sure he was," Aya growls and then casts me a withering glance. "You stay out of this!"  
  
"Like hell I will!" I shout. I stalk over to him and stand between him and Youji. He tries to push past me, but I block his way. "Youji hasn't done anything!"  
  
He looks down at me, his face changing, his eyes narrowing. "Are you saying that you encouraged him?!"  
  
I deck him in the face and stand there seething. His head whips back and he stands there holding his jaw. I can't even find any words, I'm so angry.  
  
"The... the fact that you could even think I would..." I splutter after a moment.  
  
Youji makes a squelching sound and then dances as far away from us as he can get. "I'm... gonna go now," he says quickly and then runs for the entryway. There is only silence now. I hear Youji's door slam in the distance.  
  
Aya's head slowly looks up, his eyes are angry, indigo fire burning behind them.  
  
"Don't you even look at me like that," I hiss. "You have no right to be angry with me. I haven't done anything wrong."  
  
He takes a step towards me, his fists clenched at his sides. "You want to explain this then?" he grates dangerously.  
  
"Do you want to listen to me or do you want to get in a brawl? I can take you either way," I say flatly.  
  
"You aren't wearing any pants," he says.  
  
I take a step back and look at him askance. "What does that have to do with anything?" I ask warily.  
  
"I can't take fighting you seriously when you're in your skivvies," he says. Then in a moment all the fight is gone from his eyes, the anger drains away and there is nothing left by weariness. He sits suddenly, wrapping his arms around his knees, resting he head between them. "Talk then." 

He looks so lost and alone all of a sudden.  
  
I can never figure him out.  
  
"Alright. Now that you're civil I'll explain. During the mission I miss gauged one of my jumps and popped my hip out of joint. I ignored it and finished the mission; I didn't want to tell you because I knew you would worry. It's happened before, and it usually fixes itself after a night on the couch. Youji knew something was wrong and when I told him what it was he said he could fix it. So I let him. I didn't really want to, because I just knew something like this was going to happen," I grumble.  
  
He sits for a moment and then lifts his head, peering at me with those deep, soulful eyes. "I went to your room and you weren't there. I came out to see if maybe you were in the kitchen or watching TV... and then I heard you call Youji's name like that... What would you have thought, Ken, if you turned on the light after that and saw what I saw?" he says softly.  
  
I sigh and hunker down in front of him. "Probably what you thought, but not seriously. It might have looked that way, but I would have waited for an explanation before trying to kill Youji."  
  
He shakes his head and then slowly reaches out his hand. I take it in mine and hold it to my cheek. "Oh, aité, I know... it's just... if I ever lost you," he whispers softly.  
  
My eyes soften and I snort. "Aya, don't be a baka. I would never cheat on you, ever. Especially not with -Youji-! I mean that guy's seen more action than the Middle East. God only knows where he's been."  
  
Aya chuckles and bobs his head appreciatively. "That's true."  
  
I release his hand and reach out to him, touching his face instead. "Koi, I love you. I love you so much, and I would never do anything stupid to hurt you. You trust me don't you?"  
  
He looks at me intensely, his gorgeous eyes boring holes in my soul. For a moment he seems to waver, his mouth opening ever so slightly and then closing again. He closes his eyes and then nods. "Of course I do... but like I said, if I ever lost you I don't know what I'd do. You are the tiny patch holding me together. If you get torn away I would fall apart. I'd be nothing more than dust."  
  
Invisible strings tighten around my heart, squeezing it gently. My stomach flutters and I shiver with the power of his words. "Aya-kun, don't say things like that," I whisper.  
  
Looking up to meet my eyes he rocks forward onto his knees and takes my chin in his hands. "But they're true. You are my everything, Ken."  
  
I feel the tears come to my eyes unbidden. The deepness and sadness I find in him threatens to swallow me whole. I feel like I will fly apart all into a million pieces if I don't do something, either that or he will. I cry out softly and throw myself against him, wrapping my arms around him, desperate to hold and to be held. I find myself weeping softly against his shoulder, my chest shaking and convulsing with each tiny sob. I feel his arms tighten around me, his hands caressing me, trying to chase away my pain. His lips kiss my skin gently, he nuzzles my neck, my ear, whispering to me quietly.  
  
"I love you, I'm sorry."  
  
I know that he wants me to think he is apologizing for jumping to conclusions and losing his temper, but I know what his words truly mean. 'I love you, I'm sorry.' Sorry for loving me, it's something he would be sorry for. Sorry for the pain he caused by loving me, sorry for having me love him in return, sorry for everything, sorry, sorry, sorry... This is what he really means.  
  
I sniff once and lean back, gazing into his eyes. We understand each other, no words need be said. Our lips meet in a passionate crush, pressing, opening, insisting. It is bare and honest, so pure and complete that I begin to loose track of what is me and what is him. Our tongues seek each other out, teasing lovingly, moving in a sublime dance of give and take. I breathe him into my body and moan with his breath. It feels as if we might consume one another, burn our way into nothingness with the heat of our bodies. I never want to feel anything else. I give myself over to the moment and melt into his embrace. Finally our mouths break apart, heated panting fills my ears and I hear him whisper my name, kiss my eyes, my cheeks, hold me close. And then he takes my face in his hands, holding it still, as he presses his lips to mine once again, holding them there, just lips on lips. And this is the sweetest, most true kiss he has ever given me. I want to die in his arms and fly to heaven on the wings he has given me.  
  
When the kiss ends again, I notice that tears fall quietly from both our eyes.  
  
"Don't ever apologize for loving me," I whisper.  
  
His eyes meet mine, startled that I know his true meaning. He chokes, and clutches me feverishly. "Ken... don't you dare ever leave me."  
  
I stroke his hair gently, wanting to soothe his fears. "You know I never could. We've been over this, koi."  
  
He nods and sits back, holding me at arms length. "You are so precious to me."  
  
"Nothing will change what I feel for you. Especially not Youji Kudou, man whore extraordinaire," I quip.  
  
He chuckles and sniffs back his tears. "It does seem pretty ridiculous now that I think about it."  
  
"I mean, why would I give up your beautiful temple of purity for that? I could catch more diseases from Yotan than from the Tokyo zoo."  
  
Now he laughs and buries his face in my shoulder. I stroke his hair again and put my hands on his back. "How's your face where I clocked you?"  
  
He shrugs. "Fine. I deserved it anyway."  
  
"Yeah, you did."  
  
"I apologize."  
  
"Apology accepted. Now apologize to Youji on your way to bed," I say severely.  
  
"Do I have to?" he whines.  
  
"It's not like you to whine, now don't. Just do it, I'm sure he feels awful. He may be a man whore, but he still has feelings," I say softly.  
  
Aya just grumbles and then pulls away, collecting himself and standing up. "If you insist."  
  
He holds out his hand to me and I take it, using it to help myself up. Once I stand he releases me and stoops to get my pants, tossing them to me. "Don't forget to take those to your room with you," he says softly, coming over to me. He takes me in his arms and holds me for a long moment, breathing into my hair. "I love the way you smell, Kenken. Did I ever tell you that?"  
  
I giggle and return the embrace. "No."  
  
"Well I do. I guess this is goodnight then," he kisses my forehead. "Sleep well, aité."  
  
He begins to pull away, but I gently tug at the hem of his shirt. He looks at me curiously. "Ano... I was actually thinking... er, would you... can I spend the night with you?"  
  
His eyes are startled for a moment, surprised by my request. We both know how I feel about sharing sleeping space. Then they soften, growing dark and deep with love. He touches my face and smiles distantly. "You know there's nothing I would like more."  
  
I grin and take his hand, tugging him towards the door. "Then let's get to it, cause I'm beat. Youji really knows how to take it out of a guy."  
  
"Oh, ha ha. Smart ass," he grumbles, trotting after me. I squeeze his hand and flick off the light.  
  
I never slept alone again.  
  
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	8. Can't Take You Anywhere

Disclaimer: I use them as I see fit, but lay no claim to them.

Comments: Well here you go.  A brand new, never before seen Unfortunate Event.  Rejoice and be happy.  Jump around and clap. Ring bells and sing the praises of my muse.  Or simply read and enjoy.  What more could I ask for?  I can't believe I put up the last chapter like the day that ff.net went offline.  Way to go, Marty, duh.  Anyway, so all you people who would have left reviews *nudge nudge wink wink* can do it this time instead.  Riiiigh?  Right.  Enjoy.

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His brown eyes catch the flicker of the oil lamp's flame.  They shine and shimmer, the glow of the small fire adding to the natural, laughing light behind them.  I could sit here and watch him all night.  As he talks his mouth quirks into a smile now and again, making his boyish features just that much more charming.  His tanned skin fairly glows in the dim interior of the restaurant.  

It's times like this that I am glad I have never been a big talker.  It means I can sit here and simply watch him, take him in without seeming uninterested in what he's saying.  

He fiddles with his napkin, toying nervously with the edge as he goes on about whatever it is he's going on about.  I don't really know, and I don't really care.  Most of the time I make it a point to try and listen to what Ken says, although I have to admit that it can be fairly hard to keep up with my koi's verbal diarrhea upon occasion.  But tonight I am driven to distraction merely by the sight of him.  Mesmerized by every nuance of his body.  

It's been a long time since we've been out together, and oddly enough it's making him more nervous than it's making me.  It's probably because I'm making him pay for the –last- time we went out together.  Wasn't that delightful?  Nothing like watching your boyfriend get wasted and try to take down the bouncer at a club for no apparent reason.  Ken's a good fighter, but… not that good a fighter when inebriated.  No, this time I got to choose what we did out of the house, and he's squirming through every moment of it. 

Somewhere in the background chamber music floats on the air.  

Ken goes on playing with the edge of his napkin.  

He hates sit down dinners.  And I am loving every second of this.  Pay back is a bitch, ne Kenken.  I chuckle under my breath. 

Tonight it's five star cuisine and a string concert.  I even got to dress him up, and I have to say that Ken cleans up remarkably well.  Dark slacks, a cashmere sweater, a little hair gel, he's barely the same person.  Well I guess that's not exactly true.  Still the same alluring dark eyes, the same quick smile, the same touchable skin, but all wrapped up in a new package.  And he's trying to behave himself.  This whole setting, the extra forks, the different courses, the scrutinizing eyes of the haughty waiter, even the chamber music have put him on edge.  It's charming really, how demure he can be when he really tries.  I know he wants to weather this well, he wants to prove that he can do this.

Smiling wickedly I watch him as he continues to babble nervously, now picking at the smallest fork, and I know he's wondering what the hell it's used for.  No matter how much fun getting him dressed for tonight was, getting him undressed again is going to be ten times more fun.  By the time this night is over he's going to be so held down, so pent up from concentrating on being good that as soon as I get him alone he'll release like a tightly wound spring.  

All that pent up energy… all that good behavior giving way under my hands.  

I smile again and eye him smugly.  

He pauses suddenly and looks up, catching my eyes.  As I raise an eyebrow I watch a faint blush chase across his cheeks and I realize that my thoughts must be mirrored in my eyes.  

"Having fun, aité?" I ask teasingly.

His blush fades and he rolls his eyes.  "Tons.  When do we get to eat?  We've been here for almost an hour and I haven't seen hide nor hair of our food."

"Patience is a virtue," I reply dryly.

"I have other virtues that make up for my lack of patience," he grumbles.

I bite back a laugh and have to look down at my plate for a moment.  Ken really is so cute when he's petulant.  "The salad course will be served shortly.  We're supposed to be enjoying each other's conversation."

Ken eyes me levelly.  "So far there hasn't been a whole lot of conversation.  There's just been me talking while you stare at me.  It's kinda disconcerting.  Do I have something in my teeth or what?"

"No."

"Then why are you staring at me?"

"Because I like staring at you, Kenken.  And I won't get to see you like this again for god knows how long, so I'm getting what I can while I can."

"Yeah well, you're making me feel dirty so stop it."  

_Make me,_ I mouth silently and then smile at him as charmingly as I can.  He starts to pout and goes back to fiddling with his napkin.  I love making him squirm.  

Finally the salads come and I can tell that it's all Ken can do to keep from ravenously biting off the waiter's hand as he sets the plate down.  But he does amazingly well, keeping himself in check.  He doesn't even grab manically at the first fork he can touch, he waits and watches me to see which fork I take and does the same.  He's so cute.  

He doesn't even scarf his food like he normally does; he takes his time, awkwardly maneuvering the little salad fork from his mouth to the plate and back.  Watching him I almost completely forget my own salad, and when he licks absently at a small blob of dressing at the corner of his mouth I don't even realize that my fork freezes in midair, hovering in the empty space between myself and the table until a rather large piece of lettuce manages to deposit itself in my lap.

Cursing softly I set my fork back in my salad and reach for the lettuce, glad at least that it hit the napkin and not my khakis.  Oil never comes out.  

"Can't take you anywhere," I hear Ken say, amusement lacing his voice.  Looking up hastily I see him staring at me, one eyebrow raised.  "Try not to embarrass me, ok?"

I drop the offending lettuce back into the salad and narrow my eyes.  "Very funny."

He chuckles and goes back to eating.  

Giving him one last, lingering look I start in on my salad in earnest.  

Main courses come.  I've ordered the smoked salmon penne pasta and Ken, true to his nature, has ordered a steak.  I'm about to dismiss the waiter when I notice that Ken keeps looking around the table like something's missing.  

"What is it?"

He shakes his head and then turns towards the waiter.  "Can I get a bottle of ketchup for my steak?"

The waiter looks scandalized and I don't blame him.  Ketchup?  C'mon, Ken, I know you have at least a tiny streak of good taste, now might be the time to dig it out.  

"Of course….. sir," the waiter sniffs and then turns away.

Ken looks over at me and shrugs.  I shake my head.  "What?" he asks.

"Nothing," I grumble.  

He shrugs and goes back to talking and picking at the edge of his plate, waiting patiently for his ketchup.  

"That looks good," Ken says, looking over at my pasta.  "You could eat that with chopsticks."

"I suppose so."

"You should ask for chopsticks."

"No, Ken."

"Why not?  Easier to eat than with all these forks.  I mean, how many forks does one person possibly need?" he says incredulously.  "I've got like four, and that's not including the fork they already took away."  

"Ken, shush."

"I'm just saying that I don't need this many forks and you could eat those noodles with chopsticks."

I give him a look, not a glare exactly, but a look.  "Shush."  

He rolls his eyes and looks away just as the waiter comes back with the ketchup.  It's just a regular old glass bottle of ketchup, how charming.  

"Thank you," Ken says shortly taking the bottle and giving me a little look.  

I wave the waiter away and go back to eating my pasta.  

Ken is oddly silent for a few moments and then, "God damn it."

Looking up once again I see him trying rather vigorously to dislodge some of the ketchup from the bottle onto his plate.  I don't think I have to tell you what I'm reminded of as I watch his smooth, tanned hands working back and forth vigorously over the bottle.  Shaking, up and down, the stern look of concentration….  A warm, fuzzy excitement spreads through my body, born from the junction between my legs. 

No, no this isn't good.  How does Ken manage to get me hot and bothered no matter what we're doing or where we are?  It's not fair.  He thinks I'm too spontaneous, that I can't control myself.  He blames me for ruining his sleep patterns and driving him crazy, but it's not my fault.  Oh no.  It's his fault.  I mean just look at him.  He's the most gorgeous, unassuming being ever to grace the earth with its presence.  One look at him and all my self control goes out the window, I have to have him.  I can't explain it, no one can affect me like Ken, and he doesn't even try.  I mean just like right now, with the ketchup, all the little grunts and mutterings under his breath the tiny sounds of effort he makes as he shakes the bottle up and down in his strong hands.  Pumping… shaking… pumping.

Shit.  That's enough of that.

"Ken give me the god damned bottle," I grumble looking at him darkly.  

He looks up, slightly startled and then furrows his eyes brows.  "I got it, koi.  Just go back to eating your noodles."

"Pasta."

"Whatever."  He goes on shaking and pumping slowly, increasing in pace as his frustration builds.  And as his pace quickens so does my pulse.  God he's incredible… how does he do this to me?!  My pants are beginning to feel conspicuously tighter.  A slow aching begins to build and my hand begins to move restlessly across my thigh.

"Ken, give me the bottle," I grate, trying to hide the hoarseness of my voice.

"Koi, I can handle it," he grumbles.

"Please, Ken, just give it to me," I say through clenched teeth.

He eyes me narrowly, but keeps on pumping.  "What's gotten into you?"

"Just give it!" I shout, reaching across the table, snatching the ketchup from his still moving hands.  

All of the tables near us fall silent as eyes turn towards us, and people begin to murmur behind their hands.  Ken stares at me in surprise and then starts to look around jerkily as he notices the hushed voices and the disapproving stares.  His eyes get wider and wider and then he looks back at me.  "Ran… what the hell is wrong with you?  People are staring."

I look down at my plate, trying to calm the blush I feel rising to my cheeks.  I truly am mortified. I can't believe I did that.  In the middle the restaurant.  Oh, aité, the things you do to me.  

The waiter suddenly appears at my elbow.  He smiles fakely and raises his eyebrows.  "Is everything alright, sir?"

I take a deep breath and then smile right back, scrunching up my eyes.  "Yes, everything is fine."

"Very well, sir.  Enjoy your meals."  He gives the ketchup bottle a look as if to say, _see this is what ketchup does to people._              

When the waiter leaves Ken gives me a long, hard look.  "What was that about?"

I shake my head silently.  "You were shaking the ketchup wrong.  I'll do it."  I lean over the table and hold the bottle above Ken's steak, putting the heel of my hand against the bottom of the bottle.  "You have to hit it like this."

"You're going to make a mess," he says tightly.

I glare at him.  "I know what I'm doing."

I shake the bottle gently while whacking the bottom gently.  Ken watches disapprovingly.  Damn this ketchup is stuck.  Guess it hasn't been used in a while, small wonder.  I don't notice that the hand holding the bottle is sweating against the glass. I grit my teeth and try very hard to banish all thoughts of Ken and his naughty hands from my mind.  

That's it, I am whacking the shit out of this thing.  Drawing back I smack the bottom of the ketchup bottle as hard as I can.  It slips right out of my hand, a huge blob of ketchup and the bottle as well impacting Ken's plate, sending the entire mess flying off the table and into Ken's lap.

"Shit!" he cries, leaping to his feet, tipping his chair over backwards, holding his hands up and back.  The clatter and fuss is unbelievable.  Scandalized gasps and exclamations go up from the dining multitude.  Ken looks down at his pants with unbelieving eyes and then back up at me, his mouth agape.  There is ketchup, steak, and gravy all down his lap.  Slowly the wide-eyed disbelief fades and his muscles relax until he's no longer looking at me with surprise in his eyes, but endless irritation, and not a small amount of anger.  "You sure knew what you were doing, Aya."   

All I can do is stare at the place where Ken's plate used to be and the huge red stain on the white table cloth and the mess on Ken's pants.  Closing my eyes I put my head in my hand and massage the bridge of my nose.  "Jesus."  

Then the waiter is back.  "We seem to have had a little accident.  The bathroom is this way, sir."  

Kengives me another long look while the waiter gives the ketchup one last sneer and then allows himself to be dragged away by the elbow.  

What the hell just happened?  I have managed to make an ass of myself twice in one night.  I'm supposed to be cool and collected.  I'm supposed to be used to this, to know the ropes, and the ins and outs of politer society.  This is my thing.  And I have managed not only to attract the attention of the whole restaurant but spill my date's dinner all down his pants.  But this is really Ken's fault.  Ken's fault for being so damn alluring, for turning me on in such an inappropriate place.  How can he just sit there and drive me crazy?  It's his fault for asking for the ketchup anyway.  Why did he have to start shaking it like that?  This is Ken's fault, even if he doesn't know what he's doing, it's still his fault.  His damn fault for being so unaware and aloof and sexy.

I look up and notice that people are still staring.  I smile weakly at them and then stare at my pasta.  I'm not very hungry anymore.  

I should probably see if Ken needs any help.

Getting up I look around until I spot the restroom sign and then make my way across the dining room.  I open the door with my shoulder.  Ken is standing by the sink muttering to himself under his breath scrubbing at the front of his pants with a wet towel.  He looks up at the sound of the door and sees me in the mirror.  He cocks his head to one side and glowers at me.  

"Look at this!" he cries, indicating his crotch with his hands.  "I'm a mess.  What were you thinking?"

I shake my head, trying not to look at –that- too much.  Why does Ken always set my mind on a one way track?  

"I don't know," I grumble, coming up next to him.  

"We were supposed to have a nice dinner," he says, his voice low. 

"I know.  I'm sorry, I don't know what happened.  Here let me help, give me a towel."  He hands me the wet towel he's been using and I put my hands on his hips, turning him around.  I kneel down on one knee and start to dab around the front of his pants as he leans back against the counter.  I try very hard not think dirty thoughts as I wipe around his crotch.

 "And I was afraid I was going to do something stupid and embarrassing.  I really can't take you anywhere," he grumbles after a moment, but I know now that he's smiling even without looking at him.  Deep down this mess appeals to Ken's twisted sense of humor.  "You're such an embarrassment," he chuckles running a hand through my hair.

The touch sends a shiver through my body.  I nearly convulse just thinking about it.  And I'm so close to… him.  He toys with my hair and then adds the other hand.  Shit, Ken, what are you trying to do to me?! 

"Ken," I grate, my voice husky and strained, "stop that."

"What?  I thought you liked it when I played with your hair," he chuckles and runs his hand down the back of my head.  God no, anything but that!  "Whoa!  Heh, hey Aya, watch what you're touching there."  He thinks this is all in innocence  

I snap my head up and stare at him, knowing full well that my eyes reflect all the burning, unbridled passion that he has set to coursing through my veins.  He gets that 'oh shit' look in his eyes, and he knows that things are about to get out of hand.  

"Aya, don't you dare," he hisses.  "Not here.  You can't be serious, you can't!"

Leaning forward I nip him sharply though the fabric of his shirt and growl.  "Urusai."           

He whimpers and tries to push himself farther back against the counter, but he's not going anywhere.  And then I just let all common sense fade away.  The next thing I know I'm licking his skin, pushing his shirt up, letting my tongue flick over his navel as my hands start to wrestle with the clasp of his pants. 

"Aya-kun, you can't," he breathes, tugging on my hair.  "We're in public, what is wrong with you?!"  But I can tell by the breathy little sighs he's making that he's only half serious.  I on the other hand am completely serious.  

I stand up abruptly and press him back even farther onto the counter.  "I thought I told you to be quiet.  This is all your fault anyway," I growl.

He glares at me, "What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Shush."  

I take his lips with mine, covering his insignificant protest, turning it into a moan as I invite myself inside and start to play.  When I've got him so flushed and flustered that he can't even think straight anymore I leave off and start to suck on his neck.  How awkward would it be if someone were to come in here right now?  Hmmm… awkward for them maybe, but that's their problem.  Heh.  

"Oooh… Aya, shit someone's gonna see us," he hisses, but doesn't even make the tiniest attempt to stop me.  

"Hn."

I trail my hands down his body and fall back to one knee, resuming my attack on his pants fastening.

"Oh God, you're not going to do –that-, are you?" he breathes.  "Shouldn't we go into a… a stall or –something-?"  He's panting almost as heavily as I am.  Screw the stall, I don't have time for the stall. 

Achieving my goal with the pants fastening I stand again and reach one hand down into the front of his shorts.  He moans loudly as my finger brush over his heated flesh and begin to find a solid grip.  

Just as I give him the first good squeeze, and he cries out again, his eyes hooded and glazed with pleasure and acceptance, the door bursts open.

The waiter is back.

"Is everything alright si-  Oh my."

Ken starts to make this funny little high pitched laughing sound and I… well I just slump in defeat, resting my head on Ken's shoulder.  Strike three…

*                      *                      *                      *                      *                      *

"Hey, you guys are back early.  What happened?" Youji calls over the back of the couch as Ken kicks his shoes against the wall.

I grumble something inarticulate and then stalk across the living room.  

"Oi, Aya!" Youji calls.  "Humph.  Ken, what happened."

"It's a long story," I hear him grumble.  

"Give me the gist.  C'mon, Ken what did you do?"

"What did –I- do?  What did –I- do?!  I didn't do anything!  Aya got us kicked out of the restaurant," he shouts, and I hear him direct my name towards where I have disappeared into my room.

"You're shittin' me," Youji replies.  "For what?"

There is a long pause here and I can just picture Ken giving Youji a long, meaningful, suggestive look.  "What do you think?  And I'll give you a hint: it has to do with the bathroom and the phrase: _no_, Aya, not here, we can't_."_

Another silence and then Youji suddenly bursts into a fit of gut shaking laugher.  I cringe.  "Holy shit, you have got to be joking!  Oh my god!  Aya, you freak! Can't take you anywhere!"

"URUSAI!!"

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